Comfort Food
by orangepencils
Summary: Francis sat at the kitchen table with his elbows resting on the table top, his arms propped up, hands clasped together and his chin resting on his entwined fingers. He had a lot of thinking to do. Francis, Arthur, Alfred, Matthew as a family.


**Comfort Food**

**255**

**254 is being a pain and has been put on hold for now. I'm just not in the mood to write it now.**

**Disclaimer: February 26****th**** is so far away!**

**Oh and, y'all be happy to know, there is ONE line of French. AU ish sort of. Dysfunctional, new continent family for the win!**

Comfort Food

Francis sat at the kitchen table with his elbows resting on the table top, his arms propped up, hands clasped together and his chin resting on his entwined fingers. He watched his surroundings and listened to the silence that reined in the house. He could see Arthur sitting a few feet away from him in the living room working at his embroidery. He could tell by the younger man's swift movements and sharp gestures that he wanted to be left alone.

He sighed and looked out the window. From afar, he saw Alfred riding on his horse in the yard. He could tell by the way the boy was galloping on the animal that Alfred was deep in thought reflecting on what had happened in the kitchen earlier.

Francis looked in the other direction and observed the stairs that went to the second floor. He had seen his youngest son storm up the stairs some time ago and knowing Matthew, the boy was probably painting away his frustrations. The Frenchman sighed as he recalled the incident that had caused the dispute amongst his family.

It had all started rather stupidly like most disputes usually did. Alfred and Matthew had come into the kitchen bickering amongst them. Alfred had been mostly insulting Matthew and the younger brother had tried to keep his anger in check. Arthur had been keeping a close eye on them, ready to intervene at any moment.

He had finally stepped in when Matthew had pushed his brother rather roughly against the counter after Alfred had thrown a particular nasty comment about Matthew simply being nothing more but Alfred's bad qualities put into a shell.

But because Matthew had been the first to make physical contact, Arthur had placed himself in front of Matthew with his back to Alfred and had told their youngest to stop. Matthew had gotten upset and had told his father that he only cared about Alfred and that he never paid him any attention. More hateful words had been exchanged between the two until Francis had stepped in. Indivertibly, he had taken Matthew's side and then he had ended up having a nice little argument with Arthur.

Francis sighed to himself. He was the only one who wasn't doing what he usually did to blow off steam and that was cooking. As he sat there and reflected on what had happened, he knew exactly what he had to do. He got up and headed for the kitchen.

The Frenchman gathered his ingredients and took out the utensils that he would need. He put on his favourite apron (a gift from Arthur and the boys) and pulled out the blue ribbon he used to tie his hair when he cooked. He started humming to himself as he mixed in his ingredients together.

As he poured the batter of the crêpes into his frying pan, he smiled to himself as he recalled the first time he had made these for Arthur and himself.

It had been the first time that Arthur had come over to his house and they had spent the majority of the evening teasing each other and exchanging anecdotes. Francis had taken out a bottle of his finest wine and it had gone well with the bread and cheese platter that he had prepared.

They had spent so much time on the wine, cheese, bread and conversation, that when they had been done, it had been too late to start supper so Francis had made them crêpes.

Francis smiled as he recalled another event in their lives where they had had this famous dish that he was renowned for. He remembered that the very first meal they had had together as a family had been crêpes. The atmosphere around the kitchen table had been calm and relaxed. In fact, now that he thought of it, whenever he had made these, the atmosphere had always been pleasant.

The first to come back to the kitchen table was Arthur. The noise of the pots and pans plus the smell that wafted through the house lured him there. He sat at the table and watched as Francis worked his magic.

When Francis finished adding the chocolate spread along with the chopped fruit to the crêpe, he folded it neatly, added a scoop of their favourite mango gelato and a sprig of mint on top before turning around to place the dishes on the table. He was slightly surprised to find his partner already there.

Francis took a seat in front of him after putting the dishes down. Arthur looked up and Francis was shocked to see a sad smile on the Englishman's face. His eyes shone with an unspoken apology. Francis returned the smile and took Arthur's hand in his. He brought it to his lips and kissed it tenderly. Arthur then removed his hand from Francis' grasp and caressed his cheek lovingly.

"I'm sorry."

"C'est correct. Moi aussi je suis désolé."/ _"It's alright. __I'm sorry as well." _They smiled at each other just as a pair of feet was heard coming down. Matthew walked into the kitchen and stared at his parents for a good thirty seconds. Arthur opened his arms and the boy ran into them. He hugged his father tightly and buried his face in the crook of his neck.

Arthur patted him on the back as Matthew whispered an apology to him. The Briton sat his youngest on his knees before apologizing as well. Matthew then took his seat next to his papa and just as they were about to start eating, Alfred walked in from the back door. He removed his boots, washed his hands and then walked up to his brother. The older boy stood in front of his cadet and tried to form the words he wanted to say.

"I'm sorry I said you were a shell. I didn't mean it. You're my little brother and you're okay the way you are."

"It's okay Al, I know you didn't mean it." Matthew hugged his brother. Both parents nodded approvingly and once everyone was seated, they ate their crêpes.

As Francis ate his food and watched over his family, he was pleased to note that the crêpes had worked their magic yet again and that everything was right with his family.

* * *

Once the food had been consumed, the boys had gone to play in their room together. Arthur had offered to wash the dishes, but Francis had kicked him out of the kitchen and told him to go and relax in the living room.

When he was finished with the cleaning, Francis went to find Arthur, who was reading a book and lounging on the couch. Francis sat down next to him and leaned his head on the younger man's shoulder. Arthur put his book down and clasped his hands with his lover's own hands. They remained seated together that way, simply enjoying each other's company, surrounded by their love for each other and for their children. It was comforting.

**OWARI**

**Yes, there are only four lines of dialogue in this entire piece and it's only one line per character. That was intentional.**

**Reviews, no matter how short, even if they are anonymous, mean a lot to me and let me know that my writing brings emotions to you readers out there. I see you, the ones who only favourite, the ones who add me to alert, don't think I don't. Even if it's just an exclamation point, it warms my heart.**

**Started writing: January 29****th**** 2010, 11:33am**

**Finished writing: February 1****st**** 2010, 8:24am**

**Started typing: February 1****st**** 2010, 4:47pm**

**Finished typing: February 1****st**** 2010, 6:31pm**


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